


Strays

by ErikaWilliams



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Timeline, Angst, Crowley's House Plants, Getting Together, Humans, M/M, stray cats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-03-07 02:43:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErikaWilliams/pseuds/ErikaWilliams
Summary: Aziraphale is drawn to strays, often against his better judgement.





	1. Chapter 1

Aziraphale wasn’t usually picky about where he lived, especially since technically speaking he didn’t need a residence at all. He did, however, need a place to keep his things he had acquired over the centuries, especially his expanding collection of books. Carrying them around with him everywhere had grown tiresome and leaving them in a pile in what he thought was a safe location tended to attract humans who had the audacity to gawk at the stack of books that were managing to not get wet despite the heavy rain. A few of the other angels had grumbled when they had to clean up after that particular incident, so he had been forced to come up with a better solution.

 

Naturally, Heaven was just not going to provide him with a place to keep things from Earth that they would say he didn’t even need. Which meant he had to procure a place of his own, somewhere that no humans had an interest in. The place had been empty for years, and with the right misplaced paperwork, it could stay that way for years to come. He was really doing humans a favor by keeping them out of the building. By all rights, it should have been condemned. In order to avoid notice, he resorted to sneaking in the back door to prevent passerbys from asking questions.

 

The back door was located down a dark alley that gave him the creeps every time he stared down its mouth. He stood at the entrance far longer than was necessary, waiting. There were dark things lurking down the alley, things that didn’t want to be seen. He could sense them, hiding in the shadows, watching his every move. They were waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Waiting for unsuspecting solitary residents like himself to wander down the alley.

 

Whatever they were lurking in the shadows, they had yet to ambush him. His door was only three buildings in, not that far, he would be able to make it without incident. Had every other time he had gone back to the place that was currently little more than a storage room. He had new books he needed to add to his collection, so he had to go back there. Didn’t mean he had to stay long though.

 

He made his way confidently down the alley, aware of all the eyes watching him. Eyes from insidious creatures that wished all living things harm. He made his way past the first door, and he thought he felt the beings retreating away from him. At least he would not have to deal with them today. They were cowed by his angelic presence. He made it past the second door, and something rustled behind the dumpster three doors down. Good, the foul things were going to leave him alone again tonight.

 

He stopped at the third door and held his hand over the door knob, unlocking it. He couldn’t just leave his books sitting around unprotected. He started to push the door open when the metal trash can from the next door over fell, the lid rolling across the alley and clanged into the building on the other side of the alley. So one of the fiends decided to attack him.

 

“Show yourself,” he demanded, rounding on the creature because if wasn’t a fair fight if he couldn’t see what he was up against. A gray tabby stepped out from behind the fallen trash can and stared up at him with yellow unblinking eyes. “Is that you, Crowley?” he asked, stepping closer and trying to study the cat more intently. Perhaps there had never been any danger in the alley at all, just Crowley trying to play some weird mind games with him. “I don’t have time for this foolishness,” he announced, stepping forward and making a shooing motion with his hands. The cat responded by hissing at him.

 

“You really shouldn’t talk to them,” a new voice said from behind him. He turned around quickly, trying not to look too guilty. A young woman was balancing a canvas bag in one arm and was putting the key into her lock.

 

“Excuse me?” He looked over his shoulder but the fiend had already vanished. Well played. Now the neighbors might think he was going crazy.

 

“The strays,” the young woman said as she pushed the door open with her foot. “If you pay attention to them, they’ll mistake it for affection and you’ll never be rid of them.” She leaned inside her hours and put her bag down before reemerging and folding her arms across her chest. “Are you new in the neighborhood? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

 

“I live right here.” He pushed open the door to show her that it was currently unlocked. And he would be wise to double check that it was locked when he left. He didn’t need any nosy neighbors snooping around his things uninvited. “And I’ll keep in mind what you said about the strays.” He tried to duck into the building, signaling an end to the conversation.

 

“I didn’t know anyone moved in there,” she said, and with a sigh he stepped back into the alley. “I’m sure my mother would have given you a housewarming gift.”

 

“That’s really not necessary.” He didn’t really want to live there, he just needed a place to store his books. The gray tabby came back and started to rub around his ankles. All of God’s creatures were drawn to his angelic nature, it really was proving to be quite the curse at the moment. Or the cat really was Crowley in disguise and he was just trying to be an arse.

 

“He really seems to like you,” the young woman said, gesturing to the cat that was rubbing obscenely against his legs. “You should watch that you don’t get attached.”

 

“I’m not attached,” he protested a little too quickly. The cat looked up at him, and he could feel it judging him.

 

“Really? Cause it sounded like you named it.” He wasn’t sure he liked this concept of ‘neighbors’ listening into his private conversation with stray cats in the alleyway… that was probably not Crowley in retrospect. At least he hoped not or he was never going to hear the end of this one. “Anyway, just be careful. Strays don’t last long and they’re fickle with their affections.”

 

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.” He sighed as she finally stepped inside her own house and shut the door firmly behind her. He wasn’t surprised to hear the lock click into place. “And you can just stay outside,” he declared to the cat that was still circling his ankles. The cat huffed indignantly as he disappeared into the sanctity of his own unit, shutting the door and the world out. Finally some peace and quiet where he could sit along with with his books.

 

He settled down on the sofa, the only piece of furniture besides the bookshelves and pulled out his latest acquisition. It had been quite a while since he had found something quite this rare, and he was eager to savor every page. He had just made it through the first two sentences when the meowing started. It was quiet at first, punctuated by a few scratches at the door. He raised his book higher and reread the first two sentences. The cries grew louder and more plaintiff. He was tempted to open the door, just to make sure there was nothing wrong with the noisy thing. Eventually it quieted down and he could only assume the cat had moved on. At least now he would be able to read his book in solitude.

 

The cat was scarce over the next couple of weeks. Every time he stepped into the alley, he no longer felt the presence of tiny eyes watching him. So much for that girls prophecy about the strays mistaking his attention for affection. He checked every time he left the building and every time he returned, but it seemed like one of the cats were around, let alone the gray tabby that had circled his legs. Perhaps he had chased it off with his rejection. Where the rest of the fiends had gone off to was beyond his knowledge. He managed to avoid his neighbors as well, which was rather a low-key blessing. He liked the quiet and the solitude, and the only company he longed for had been rather scarce lately.

 

He settled into a placid routine. He avoided his hoard for as long as he could, partially because he didn’t need Heaven asking about his hobbies but mostly because he didn’t like the loneliness the building radiated. It had been empty for quite some time and was aching for some boisterous company. The emptiness would seep under his skin, and he would have to close his book in a hurry and vacate the building before he could dwell on it for too long. He had lost more than one book place in the process, but it was still better than leaving his books out on the street. When he did return from his angelic duties, he managed to miss all the neighbors, and he would sit in the quiet of the building and try not to think. The books were a great distraction in that regard. Unless of course they had romantic subplots and then it seemed like the building was full of ghosts. The hiss of the radiator would cause him to lower his book for a moment, wondering if it had been something else he heard.

 

Regardless of the ghosts, the books were a welcome escape from his every day life and after long stretches of unrelenting work, he actually looked forward to their company. At least they were keeping him company, unlike some beings he could think of but refused to. He stepped confidently down the alley now that the strays appeared to have run off. His step faltered when he saw the neighbor girl leaning up against his door with her arms folded across her stomach.

 

This did not bode well for his plans for the evening, but he plastered a smile on his face as he approached her. No need to scare her off, make her suspicious and call the police.

 

“Excuse me, miss, but you seem to be confused. Your residence is the next door over.”

 

“I’m supposed to invite you over for dinner,” she said without vacating her spot in front of the door. He couldn’t exactly miracle the door unlocked when she was standing right in front of it. “Mom says a confirmed bachelor like yourself probably hasn’t had a home cooked meal since you left your mother’s house.”

 

“What does she mean, ‘confirmed bachelor’?” he asked, affronted that this neighbor lady he had never even met before had spent so much time thinking about his personal life when he wanted nothing more than to be left alone.

 

“You know, men like you,” the young woman said, stepping away from his door but not far enough that he could sneak inside without her realizing he didn’t have keys. “Don’t have wives because of… you know.”

 

What would he possibly do with a wife? Besides Heaven frowning upon intimate relationships with humans, it would be just one more thing that he would have to distract him from the things that really mattered.

 

“Anyway, she told me not to take no for an answer. And believe me, you do not want to make her angry.”

 

“I suppose one meal wouldn’t hurt,” he said which seemed to be the magic words to get her to step away from his door but also broke about a dozen of his own rules. It was dangerous to spend significant time with specific humans. Their lives were too short, and if he got too attached, it would bring him nothing but pain. One meal couldn’t hurt though, and with a longing glance at how close he had been to freedom, he followed the girl next door.

 

“Mom, I’ve brought the neighbor man,” she said as she stepped inside and shrugged out of her shawl. “I hope he’s not a serial killer.”

 

He would have corrected her on that count, but he had stopped just inside the door. Even though the layout was identical to his place just next door and was part of the same building in desperate need of repairs, his breath was taken away by the differences on the inside. It just wasn’t that this place was furnished while all he had was a few bookcases and the single sofa he sat in for reading. This place was lived in from the battered pillows on the sofa to the dirty mug sitting next to the sink. More than that, this place was loved. The people who lived here loved the place for giving them shelter no matter what it looked like to an outside observer.

 

“Mom!” the young woman called at the bottom of the stairs. A middle aged woman appeared from a room deeper in the house, wiping her hands in the folds of her apron.

 

“Oh, I see you brought our neighbor back with you.” She took a few steps forward with her hand extended towards him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr-”

 

“Fell,” he provided quickly, loosely grasping her hand and giving it a quick single shake before pulling away. “Your daughter tells me that I’ve been requested for dinner.”

 

“I hope she wasn’t too pushy,” the woman said, looking pointedly around him. When he turned around the only thing he saw was the young woman pulling some dishes out of the cupboard. “It’s just that I figured you must travel a lot with your job and without a wife, you probably never get a proper home cooked meal.”

 

“That’s exactly how she put it,” he said as he turned back around to the matron and the girl carefully balanced the dishes on her way over to the table. No need for him to get the young lady in trouble when she was just trying to do her best. “I hope you didn’t go through any trouble on my account.”

 

“No, no trouble at all,” she dismissed him as she bustled her way past him and he suddenly felt very much in the way. The daughter set the table while her mother opened up the oven releasing the smell of fish. “I hope you like tuna casserole,” she said as she pulled a large dish out of the oven. It seemed an awful amount of food for just the three of them, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

 

“I’m sure it’s delicious,” he said stepping out of her way again as she made her way to the table with the dish. The fish smell would probably bring some of the strays back to the alley.

 

“Please, have a seat,” she said, gesturing to one of the chairs at the table while her daughter sat down. Three chairs at the table, but there was only the two of them. He doubted they brought out the extra chair just for him. The mother waited until he was seated before she started spooning heaps of the meal onto his plate. She gave her daughter some before she finally sat down.

 

“Smells delightful,” he said as the woman beamed at him and her daughter stared at her plate like he wasn’t even there. Something was leaking somewhere in the house, a steady drip that seemed to echo through the kitchen. He could indulge them for a little while, then go back to hiding in his own place. It couldn’t hurt to have a small meal, but he was finding it difficult to eat when they were starting at him so intently. “What’s that noise?” he asked, placing his fork back down on his plate. He couldn’t possibly be expected to be comfortable with that infernal noise going on.

 

“Don’t you mind that,” the neighbor woman said with a dismissive wave. “It’s just a leaky pipe in the downstairs bathroom, nothing for you to worry about.”

 

“Nonsense,” he said, standing up from the table. “I’ll fix it for you, in thanks for the dinner.” He followed the sound further into the house, followed by the young lady of the house. Probably making sure he wasn’t going to do anything weird in her house. He found the source, a pipe underneath the sink that was dripping into a bucket she placed under there to collect the water.

 

“I think I found your problem.” He moved a little to the side to block the young woman’s view. He placed his hand next to the pipe and realign it so the leak would stop, aware that the young woman was trying to peer around him. “There. Fixed. Now we can enjoy dinner.”

 

“But you didn’t have any tools with you.” She stepped closer to him and tried to peer around him. “How did you do that?”

 

“You better not be bothering him, young lady,” the neighbor woman called to them from where she remained at the table.

 

“She’s no trouble,” he called back even though she was asking too many questions. He was going to have to be very careful about what he did around her or else he was going to have to find somewhere else to store his stuff. Which could be far more trouble than he had time for at the moment. “Don’t want your mother’s cooking to go cold now, do we?” She made one last attempt to peer around him before sashaying back to the dining room.

 

At least now he could attempt to enjoy the meal in relative peace, even though the young woman stared at him the entire time like he was about to grow a second head. Or she expected him to do something unnatural. The food was good, definitely better than anything he had been making for himself. When he was done and he thanked his hosts for the meal, she fixed him up a plate to take home with him. He held it carefully in front of him as he walked the short distance back to his unit. He had thought about declining her offer since he had nowhere to keep it, but that would not have been very polite.

 

“Meow,” a cat chirped from the darkness and he almost dropped the plate. The gray tabby from the other week stepped out of the shadows, tail lashing behind it. It sniffed the air appreciatively and looked at him expectantly. “Mew,” it added plaintively, raising it’s front paw.

 

“Are you hungry?” he asked, and the cat came to ring around his ankles some more. He looked back over his shoulder to make sure no one had followed them. “Don’t tell them about this.” He put the plate down on the ground and the cat zeroed in on the tuna. He kept looking guiltily over his shoulder, like he expected someone to come out at any moment and scold him for sharing his leftovers with a stray. They were his leftovers to do with as he pleased. The cat stepped away from the plate, licking its chops as it jumped onto the windowsill. It licked its paw and started cleaning the side of it’s face, perfectly content to ignore him now that it had a full belly. He picked the plate up and disappeared into his unit; he could take the plate back to them in a few days.

 

The next morning when he left the building the cat was outside waiting for him. It jumped down from the windowsill and started circling around his legs in greeting. “I don’t have anything for you,” he told the cat which as far as he was concerned should have been the end of it. The cat was uncooperative however and continued to rub up against him, purring incessantly.

 

“Good morning, Mr. Fell,” the young lady from next door called as she stepped outside of her unit. “Where’re you off to?”

 

“I’m trying to go to work,” he said attempting to move forward and nearly tripping over the cat that refused to move, “but this feline seems to have other ideas.”

 

“Is that the same stray from the other day?” she asked, peering over at him. “I warned you not to feed him.”

 

“Who says I fed him?”

 

“He seems rather fixated on you.”

 

“Fine, I fed him, now what do I do?” He needed to get to work, who knew what sorts of evils were going on in the world. Perhaps the cat wasn’t Crowley, but maybe Crowley had sent the cat to trip him up.

 

“You’ve got to scare it away.”

 

“Why would I do that?? The poor thing just wants love.” The cat looked up at him with wide yellow eyes.

 

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.” The girl stepped quickly towards him while making shooing motions with her arms. The cat hissed at her before darting down the alley. “It doesn’t want love, it just wants to take advantage of you.”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He didn’t think she needed to scare it off quite so drastically. The poor thing was probably cowering under the stairs somewhere.

 

“You seem like a nice guy, Mr. Fell. Strays are fickle with their affections, and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale never expected visitors. In the months since he had moved in, the only beings he had any contact with were the neighbors, and he always encountered them in the alley. Every so often, they would invite him over for dinner, and they would always give him a plate of leftovers. He shared that with the cat on the way back to his unit. So the neighbors never came over to his door, and the cat certainly wouldn’t be knocking. When the cat decided it wanted inside, it would scratch at the door, leaving marks in the wood that he was careful to miracle away in the morning.

 

So when a knocking came on his door while he was enjoying his morning tea, he didn’t know how to respond. It might be one of the neighbors, or it might be a mistake. It was probably a mistake. No one would come to visit him, so he returned his attention back to the weekly newspaper. No one was supposed to know someone lived there. They should move on shortly.

 

The knocking came again, a little louder this time, like the person on the other side knew that he was going to be in there. “Aziraphale,” a familiar voice called from the other side of the door, “open up.”

 

He didn’t bother getting up to open the door, just placed the newspaper down and the door swung open.

 

“Hello, Crowley,” he said as Crowley sauntered in, looking critically around the interior. Not that he had much to look at. He needed to get more bookshelves to accommodate the new books he had accumulated sitting in piles around the floor. The only other new things in the unit were the small table by the back window and the other empty chair across from the one he was in. “What brings you here?”

 

Crowley had a potted plant in his hand that he was holding close to his body like a treasured child. “Just thought I’d stop by, bring you a little housewarming gift.” He put the plant down on top of the newspaper, and a few dry leaves drifted down.

 

“You brought me a plant.” He brushed the dry leaves off the table while Crowley continued to look around him in interest. What exactly did he think he was looking for?

 

“Yeah, well, it was underperforming, so I brought it here to make an example of it.” Crowley stepped over to the window and peered outside. “Figure you’ll finish it off within the week.”

 

“Such a thoughtful gift.” He picked the plant up off the table and moved it to the windowsill where it shuddered and dropped a few more brown leaves. He was going to have to clean up after it constantly. “You really shouldn’t have.” Just one more thing he was going to have to remember to do when he barely came to the building in the first place.

 

“Don’t mention it. I figure you won’t be here long.” Crowley moved to another window to get a different view of the alley. “You can just leave it here when you move on.”

 

He sat back down at the table and picked his newspaper back up. Crowley was free to stay if he wanted, but only if he was going to stop his infernal pacing. “Why would I leave? This place is rather suitable for my tastes.”

 

“Really? Cause I didn’t take this as your kind of neighborhood.”

 

He tried to ignore that jab, focusing instead on the article he had been trying to read. It seemed that some rare manuscripts had been found that originally belonged the library of Alexandria. “The guy three doors down beats his wife and kids, two of your neighbors are drug dealers, one of them is a serial killer, and there are six, no, wait, seven prostitutes on this street alone.”

 

“And I supposed you figured that all out just by staring out the window?” He didn’t know why Crowley bothered to bring him a housewarming gift if his only goal was to insult the place.

 

“No,” Crowley said, dropping down into the other chair, crossing one long leg over the other. He miracled himself a glass of wine since Aziraphale didn’t have any on hand. He was going to chide Crowley on drinking so early in the morning, but then again, he wasn’t even sure what time of day it was. All he knew for sure was that it was daylight. He discretely watered down Crowley’s wine, just to be on the safe side. “I’ve been scoping out the neighborhood for the past couple of months.”

 

“Looking for your next conquest?” he asked as Crowley produced a basket of muffins from underneath the table and dropped it in between them. It was very obviously a bribe to prevent him from asking too many questions about Crowley’s business in the neighborhood. A bribe that stood a good chance of working as the muffins were still warm and had a thin crusting of sugar around the edges. Besides, if Crowley was making an effort to be nice to him, the least he could do was try to appreciate.

 

“Nothing of the sort,” Crowley said, nudging the basket closer to him. “Besides, most of these people don’t need my help in that department.” None of these people were on his list to be saved, one of the reasons why he liked coming back there. It helped to keep his work separate from his down time. Still, it might not be a bad idea for some small miracles to occur, help steer some of these people back onto the path of righteousness. Not all of them were as evil as Crowley made them out to be. “So I guess you’re settled in for the long haul, seeing as how you’ve picked out furniture.”

 

“It suits my purposes for now,” he said, finally caving and reaching forward to grab a muffin. He idly wondered if Crowley had yet noticed the watered down wine. He bit into the muffin which was a little on the dry side for his tastes and decided Crowley knew and had retaliated in kind. “I need somewhere to keep my books.” Crowley would understand since he needed a place to keep his plants safe. Weird thing to collect really since he could just go and enjoy plants anywhere.

 

“So that’s the only draw to this place?” Crowley asked him, taking a sip from the wine and grimacing. “It’s just a place for you to keep your books.”

 

“What else would I possibly want with this place?” What was Crowley hinting at exactly? That he was getting a little too human and needed somewhere to call home? He hadn’t needed a home in six thousand years.

 

“Don’t know,” Crowley said, snagging one of the muffins, heedless of the crumbs he knocked to the floor. “Thought maybe you were looking for some company.” Company like the type he sought could not be found from humans. They tried their best, but they just didn’t live long enough to fathom his existence.

 

“I have all the company I could ever want.” He waved his hand and the crumbs on the floor vanished.

 

~*~*~

 

Despite his better judgment, he found himself starting to look forward to returning to the townhouse, and not just because it meant he spent time with his books. He had taken to stopping at the corner market on his way back and picking up a fish. A fish that he unwrapped from the paper packet as he stepped into the alley. There had been other cats once, but the only one that showed up now was the gray tabby. It could smell the fish as soon as he opened the packet, but it would wait patiently at the door. It waited until he was three feet away before it started meowing. He would place the packet on the ground, and would look nervously over his shoulder, waiting for the neighbor to come home and scold him for feeding the strays again.

 

Once the cat had finished its meal, he would pick the packet up and toss it into the garbage can three doors down. The cat waited on the windowsill when he left. He would give it a few scratches behind the ears and head on his way.

 

It wasn’t the most glamorous routine, in fact the next time Crowley had stopped by to check on his plant he seemed to view his habits with disdain. But it was his, and he was comfortable with it. Heaven could hardly fault what he was doing. In fact, his very presence might steer the neighborhood along a more righteous path and should earn him a commendation. Besides, its not like they got vacation time, so whatever time he could carve for himself was all he got. Not only that, but he liked things predictable, and humans were difficult to predict. But the cat was always waiting for him.

 

Except the one day he returned and the cat was not the only one sitting on the back stoop. The neighbor girl was back. He paused outside the first unit, fearing that something had happened to the cat. Something stirred next to her on the steps, and he felt a weight lift off his chest as he recognized the cat rolling around. It was pressed up against her leg, all four paws in the air, and she was rubbing its chest absentmindedly.

 

Well, they were both safe and sound then, and at least one of them was waiting for him. If not both of them, and the very thought made him want to turn around and get back to work. As it were, he did quickly ditch the fish in the first garbage can he passed. He didn’t need a lecture from the neighbor about feeding the strays again. The cat heard his footsteps and rolled over onto its stomach, looking up at him expectantly. It would be able to smell the fish on him. He would be lucky if it didn’t maul him on the way through.

 

“Excuse me,” he said as he approached. The cat stood up and started to circle around his legs. This at least was a familiar dance to him. He could always sneak back for the fish in a few minutes. “Can I help you with something?” Maybe it was time for another dinner; he hadn’t quite gotten the knack of their schedule yet.

 

“I just wanted some fresh air,” she said, but she made no move to leave from the front of his door. So much for going inside and having a relaxing evening. “Thought I would come over here and say hello to your friend here.” She scratched the cat behind its ears and it purred happily, leaning into her touch.

 

“I don’t know why he keeps coming around.” He sat down on the other side of her, trying to figure out what was so fascinating on the other side of the alley that she was staring at. “Are you waiting for something?” It was getting dark, and she really should be getting inside somewhere it was warmer and safer. Especially if what Crowley had said about the neighborhood was true. He hadn’t bothered to verify because then he would just be more wary about keeping his books there.

 

“We know all about waiting,” she said as the cat crawled over her lap and started head butting Aziraphale in the thigh. She took a wind up watch out of her pocket and looked at it without bothering to open it to check the time. “I guess you do too though,” she said with a smile in his direction as she put the watch back in her pocket.

 

The concept of waiting had no personal meaning for him. When you had all the time in the universe, you didn’t bother with things like waiting. Events and people and demons always came around in their due time. There was no sense in dwelling on it.

 

“I haven’t seen your handsome friend around here lately.”

 

“He’s not my friend,” he countered automatically. He didn’t like the discerning way she was looking at him, like there was something else he should have said instead. “He’s a business associate.” Technically true, and he didn’t think he should have to explain himself to a human.

 

“Still, he’s the only company I’ve seen you have besides the cat.” She reached over to give the cat a quick scratch behind the ears. The cat chirped in contentment and flopped down on its side. “Must be lonely.”

 

Why was everyone so concerned about how much company he did or did not have? He had his books whenever he needed them. He had the cat every time he came back here. He had this girl and on the odd occasion her mother, and since they did not seem to be willing to leave him alone, he doubted he would lack human company until they were gone.

 

He had Crowley on the intermittent occasion he deigned to show up. Crowley was the most constant presence in his life. Even when he hadn’t seen him for a while he could be assured that he would reappear in relatively short order. Almost as soon as he thought about him, like the very whisper of his name on his mind would summon him. Which meant he would likely show up tonight since the girl had mentioned him. At least Crowley had the decency to leave at a proper hour.

 

“I have a plant,” he said defensively. How much company was he expected to have anyway? Company would only distract him from the things that were really important. The plant was quickly moving up his list of preferred company, even though it obstinately continued to shake dried leaves all over the place as if it were terrified of the return of its former caretaker.

 

“How is my plant doing anyway?” Crowley asked from beside him. The girl gave a start and nearly fell off the steps. He had probably come the other way up the alley, disguised no doubt in order to give the girl a scare. He knew thinking about him was going to bring him there. The cat crawled onto his lap and digging its nails into his legs, growled at Crowley. Inside the building, he could feel the plant give a tremendous shake.

 

“Beautifully. It was such a thoughtful gift.” He was sure Crowley had put a lot of thought into it, judging on how much of a mess it made every day.

 

The girl stood up and dusted off the front of her skirt self-consciously, like she had walked into something she didn’t like. “If you’re going to insist on feeding it, I’ll talk to the milkman tomorrow about adding you to his route.” She looked at him, looked at Crowley, then hightailed it back to her own unit. It was the fastest he had ever been able to get rid of her.

 

He scooped the cat off his lap with one hand, feeling it’s ribcage against his palm. He stood up and deposited the cat on its favorite windowsill where it proceeded to swipe at Crowley’s arm. “Shall we?” He indicated that Crowley should precede him into the unit and he locked the door once he retreated inside after him.

 

“You know, you really shouldn’t feed them,” Crowley informed him as he made a beeline towards his former plant.

 

“Yes, she told me that several times, but now she’s ordering milk for it.” He didn’t think he was the one who had gotten too attached to it. Still, it could probably use meals from someone other than him.

 

“Not the cat. That thing will be gone within the week.” It was not the first time someone had dismissed the cat’s longevity, but so far the feline had proven to be quite hardy. It knew where to come to when it needed a guaranteed meal and it seemed perfectly capable of taking care of itself. “That girl from next door and the other humans living here.”

 

“Oh, I don’t feed them. They feed me.”

 

“I’m not talking about food. Next thing you know, you start getting attached to them. No telling where that road may lead.”

 

~*~*~  


Winter had settled in hard on the city and refused to loosen its icy grip. He could only imagine what the humans were going through, trudging through the snow every day. He tried not to stay out too long in the cold. He wanted to stay inside as frequently as possible, cozy with the books and some hot drink. He only ventured outside when work forced him.

 

He didn’t see the cat any more. He slowed as he walked down the alley, but nothing ever greeted him. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he saw it. May have been a few weeks ago. He was almost certain it had been before the first snow fall of the year. He hoped it had found someplace safe to hole up for the winter. Maybe some kind soul had opened the door and let it in.

 

Unfortunately, he had an appointment to keep. As much as he would like to stay indoors and snuggle down into a warm blanket with a book and a mug of hot cocoa. Heaven demanded he keep up on his job. The forces of evil didn’t rest just because it was a little chilly outside. Well, Crowley did. Crowley hated the cold. It was the snake in him, he supposed. The snow outside his door was unbroken, and he thought maybe it would be best if he left it that way. Sort of glide along it to keep up with the illusion that no one was living in that unit.

 

“Mr. Fell?” a broken voice called to him from the shadow of the building. He sank up to his ankles in the cold snow. “Were you walking on the snow?” the neighbor girl asked him.

 

“Just a trick of the light,” he assured her, stepping closer to her. She really shouldn’t be out in this cold. She looked awfully pale and was shivering underneath her thin jacket. “What on earth are you doing out here?”

 

“Must have accidentally locked myself out,” she said, wrapping her arms tightly around herself. “Not very bright of me, is it?” She shuffled in the snow.

 

“What happened to your shoes?” he asked, stepping closer to her. She definitely should not have been standing out there without anything to protect her feet.

 

“Someone took’em,” she said with a small shrug. The effort almost knocked her over.

 

“Let’s get you inside and warmed up.” He guided her back into his unit, looking back over his shoulder at her place.

 

The girl was quiet as she stumbled inside the door in front of him. As if the cold had taken away the flame within her. He guided her over to the sofa and she practically folded down onto it. He discretely started a fire and pulled a blanket around her shoulders. She needed to get warm, and then they could deal with the rest of it.

 

“They took my dad’s watch,” she said quietly as he knelt down by the sofa to look at her feet. They had ice stuck to them and were blue. They were cold to the touch, and she didn’t even seem to notice that he had touched them.

 

“It’ll be fine,” he said as he returned the warmth to her feet. She would be fine as long as he could get her a new pair of shoes before he sent her home. “Do you like hot cocoa?” he asked as he stood back up, careful not to startle her. She had clearly been through some ordeal. Dark blood matted her hair just beyond her temple.

 

“I’ve never had any,” she muttered, staring past him into the flames.

 

“Oh, well, you’re in for a treat,” he told her. Making the cocoa was easy enough, the trick was to make it seem like it was taking the actual amount of time so she wouldn’t ask any questions. Not that she seemed focused on what he was doing, or anything else for that matter. He had already taken care of her feet, but there was a bigger problem that he would not be able to solve so easily. “Here you are,” he said as he handed her the mug at the perfect temperature. “A nice, hot cocoa for you.”

 

She took a brief sip from it, and he took the mug back from her before she toppled over. He carefully put her feet up on the sofa and covered her with a nearby blanket. She should sleep soundly for a few hours, at least long enough for him to take care of a few things. Rest really would be the best for her. That and getting her things back, though he didn’t think he could do it on his own.

 

~*~*~

 

“It’s literally freezing outside, angel,” Crowley said from just inside the doorway to his flat. He tried not to be too disappointed that Crowley didn’t even bother to invite him inside. At least the heat worked well, even though he could feel even more heat pouring out from the inside of Crowley’s flat. How could he possibly stand to stay in there, it would make the outside world seem even more frigid. “Do you honestly expect me to go out there with you?”

 

“Please, Crowley.” Technically he could have handled it himself, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Not that he had decided exactly how he was going to get the girl’s stuff back. He just knew he needed Crowley’s assistance. “I wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t important.” He rarely sought out Crowley’s company; Crowley just seemed like he valued his time alone or else he would show up more frequently than he did. Besides, he knew how much Crowley liked his naps, and he would hate to interrupt one of them.

 

“It’s just some petty squabble between humans.” Crowley stepped briefly into the hallway and looked both ways as if he was checking to make sure they were absolutely alone. He stepped back inside with a visible shudder. He didn’t think it was that cold in the hallway. “You can’t get involved without it snowballing and producing a good deal of paperwork for us both.”

 

Crowley started to close the door on him. “I’ll do your paperwork!” he called. The door stopped with an inch left and he sighed in relief as Crowley slowly opened the door back up. “If things get out of hand. I’ll do any paperwork Hell sends to you.”

 

The door abruptly shut in his face. He had thought he was starting to get through to Crowley. It was one thing to recover the lost property and another to find a punishment that fit the crime. He could strongly suggest that they rethink their lives, and they would possibly be compelled, but things like that tended to have a ripple effect and very likely would cause more work for Crowley. Well, he would deserve it since he couldn’t even be bothered to come help him on such a relatively simple task. The door abruptly opened back up and Crowley stepped out, with a hat, thick scarf and heavy jacket, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He tried not to let Crowley see his grin, but Crowley didn’t seem to be paying much attention to him.

 

“Alright, let’s get this over with,” Crowley said as he started to strut towards the stairs.

 

“Oh, thank you, Crowley,” he said as he hurried after him.

 

“I wouldn’t thank me yet. We’re not even sure we’re going to be able to find these people you’re looking for.”

 

“I’m sure if the two of us are working together, we’ll be able to find them in no time,” he said as they stepped outside into the cold. The windchill would cut most people to the bone, so he wasn’t too surprised that he didn’t see too many other people. Crowley shuddered next to him and appeared to try to sink further into his jacket. Aziraphale used a small miracle to heat Crowley’s jacket from the inside. It was the least he could do. Crowley looked briefly over at him, but made no comment about the fact that his jacket was suddenly acting as a heating lamp.

 

“So what are we looking for?” Crowley asked after they had wandered aimlessly for a few blocks.

 

“A pair of boots, a watch.”

 

“Oh, that’s very helpful,” Crowley snapped at him. He probably wasn’t warm enough then, so they should make this as quick as possible. He didn’t want Crowley to be overly uncomfortable on his behalf.

 

“I’ll recognize the watch when I see it,” he assured him. “I’m sure the ruffians are trying to sell their ill-gotten gains.”

 

“Great, I think I know where we’re going.” Crowley veered off in another direction, and Aziraphale had to struggle to catch back up with him. “Saw a couple of kids selling stuff on the streets a few times. Didn’t know they were stealing it.”

 

“Would you have stopped them?” he asked and Crowley didn’t answer him. They didn’t have to go much further before Crowley stopped him by placing a hand in front of him. A group of young men had a blanket spread out on the sidewalk, and it was piled with paraphernalia.

 

“See anything familiar?” Crowley asked as they surveyed the scene. They had so much, and most of it seemed like trash they had picked out of the dumpster. He didn’t know how anyone would be able to find anything of value in those piles. Then he saw it, next to a woman’s lace handkerchief, the scratched bronze watch he had seen her with before.

 

“The watch,” he told Crowley, leaning closer to him. Crowley seemed to lean back in towards him even though he was sure he could hear him perfectly well. “The boots with the gray fur trim.” He wasn’t sure if they were her boots or not, but they were nice and he could always miracle them if they didn’t fit her quite right.

 

“Anything else?” Crowley asked, leaning so close to him that he could feel his breath warm against his ear.

 

“Those are the only things she mentioned.”

 

“Leave this to me,” Crowley whispered before he sauntered off in the direction of the young men and their stolen wares. He shouldn’t watch this. He didn’t really need to know how Crowley accomplished the deed, just as long as it was done. He turned his attention back the way they had come, to make sure no one was following them at any rate. Somewhere deep down inside Crowley was a decent being who occasionally could use his talents to do the right thing. He heard a scuffle from down the road, and when he looked back, the ruffians were taking off down the street, leaving the stuff behind them. Crowley was talking back down the sidewalk towards him, boots in one hand and a fistful of other items.

 

“Did you get the watch?” It was very important that they get the watch back for her.

 

“Watch, boots, fistful of cash,” Crowley said handing the items back to him. Crowley stuff his hands back in his pockets.

 

“Oh, thank you, Crowley.” Now he just had to get everything back to the girl, and this would all have been like a bad dream. He expected Crowley to go home, to retreat back to the warmth of his flat. Yet Crowley doggedly followed him back to his dwelling. “Thank you again, Crowley,” he said, pointedly outside of the door.

 

“I want to see what caused all this fuss,” Crowley said in a low voice that brokered no argument. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt for Crowley to come inside for a bit, indulge in a cup of cocoa. He deserved some reward for his part in the heroism.

 

Aziraphale led the way inside. The neighbor girl was still sound asleep on the sofa, just where he had left her.

 

Crowley circled around the sofa staring down at her. Aziraphale decided to ignore him. “You know this is not good, right?” Crowley said, stopping by the girl’s head.

 

“It’s just one human.” He miracled the boots onto her feet and the watch back into her jacket pocket along with the money Crowley had picked up. “And when she wakes up, she’ll think it had all been a bad dream.”

 

“You can’t just take in every human that seems lonely,” Crowley told him.

 

“I didn’t take her in, she lives next door,” he said defensively. “Besides, I’m an angel. I’m supposed to steer people towards Heaven.”

 

Crowley made himself comfortable on one of the chairs by the window. “I’m telling you right now, this is going to end badly.”

 

He made two more cups of cocoa and sat one down on the table in front of Crowley. He settled down on the other chair and took a sip of his cocoa, mindful of the tiny marshmallows.

 

“I can take care of myself, Crowley.”


End file.
